Unspoken Anger
by Niriiun
Summary: Requested by geecee. Might turn into a two-shot. Muramasa is restless. He happens across Byakuya and decides to drop in on his private thoughts. Rated T for now.


**(NOTE: I'm not sure what Byakuya's inner world looks like, so please settle for what I've described it as. Also, if you would like this to turn into a two-shot, let me know. ^^ Thank you. -Canta)**

Muramasa walked aimlessly through the dark underground tunnels, eyes narrowing to dark slits. He was restless, his feet pushing him onward even though he had long since forgotten the pinpoint reason as to why he was restless. But he was, the wind that didn't blow carrying a strange excitement in the air, something that he wanted to investigate even though there was no objective to his wandering wavers, not a point as to where the certain excitement would be located. That is, until he happened across Kuchiki Byakuya, the newest member of his cause.

The white-robbed man was sitting alone in one of the larger caves, his eyes focused on some point that Muramasa couldn't seem to find. His day was already restless from the air and it turned stranger as he spotted the serene, and surprisingly relaxed, form perched atop a rather tall mount of stone.

He made no noise as he shuffled up to the stone pillar, shifting to the top. From down below it seemed as if the area was small but to his surprise it was quite large, Byakuya poised on the near edge. The raven didn't turn to look at him. His body hardly even quivered, his long breaths hitting Muramasa's ears.

He quirked a brow, trying to understand if what was seeing was actually true. Senbonzakura was no longer trapped inside his pitiful sword, free to do whatever he pleased.  
>So. Why. Was. Byakuya. In. His. Inner. World?<p>

Muramasa, curious, decided to enter into his private thoughts. The world seemed to spin, his mind sliding through darkness before opening to a gentle pink light. A scene settled out before him, revealing a long stretch of dark-wooded trees, beautiful cherry blossoms dancing across the well-worn ground. He was amazed, to say the least. Byakuya had been one of the two shinigami that he hadn't ventured into their inner worlds. But suddenly, he found himself wishing he had.

Rather than stand around and admire the beauty of the place around him, he ventured forward in a leisurely way, taking time to enjoy the rare sight around him. A dark shape appeared on the horizon, growing as he drew closer. The nearer he got, the clearer it became, until it revealed a lovely wooden building, silvery trees painted along the sides with bright red flower petals blowing in every direction.

He went to the left, seeing a dark pink screen covering the doorway. Muramasa drew it open, his curiosity getting the better of him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room, candles and incense burning along the far wall. A picture sat in the middle of it all, much like the girl back in the soul society. A form moved in the corner of his eye, revealing a steel-faced Kuchiki Byakuya.

"I wasn't aware that you were allowed here, Muramasa," he said, voice even. But he couldn't help but detect a faint trace of anger or sadness underneath the obvious monotone. "I am allowed to travel where I please." Byakuya regarded him for moment before looking at the picture. "This is a place that you are not welcome and I do not wish to fight with you in here. Please leave." Muramasa caught the underlying threat in his voice, narrowing his eyes as he tried to analyze the situation better. First of all, who was that woman?

"If I may, who is that woman there?" Byakuya turned to him yet again and this time Muramasa managed to catch a faint trace of sadness in his swirling depths. And then it was gone, replaced by cold practicality. "She is someone I once held dear to me." With this, the raven pushed past him and vanished through the screen. He let his eyes flick back over the picture again before he followed, pushing open the screen soundlessly.

Byakuya was standing near one of the trees, his back to Muramasa. The petals were dancing along the ground at his feet, some swirling up and around him before falling back to the ground yet again. "I knew you had the ability to do this but I wasn't expecting you to invade my private sanctuary. This place is sacred to me. Please leave." Polite and menacing at the same time. Muramasa smirked.

"Sacred to you? Your Zanpakuto was once held here. Is that why? You remember all the good times the two of you supposedly spent together?" Muramasa wanted to push the former shinigami, for the simple reason that the feeling of tension and excitement was still in the air, even here. Something made him want to fight- and he hated it. He hated to fight just because this feeling told him to. But he went with it anyway. "My Zanpakuto has never set his eyes here. Only two people have ever ventured into this place, three including you." Despite Muramasa's mocking words, Byakuya remained perfectly composed.

"This isn't your inner world?" His eyes narrowed a fraction, taking in the place around him. If this wasn't Byakuya's inner world, what was it? "It is one of them." Muramasa took a moment to analyze what he had just said. Just what was this place then? "What is this one used for then?"

"I used to escape the world of order and duty to be alone with my . . ." The raven trailed off, something that he didn't do often. He wasn't even sure why he was sharing this information with the man before him. "With who? The girl in the soul society?" Byakuya regarded the man before him with thinly veiled anger. "The woman in that photo does not concern you. That information will not benefit you in any way."

Muramasa stared back at him with dark-circled eyes, a flower petal blowing just before his mouth. "For the sake of curiosity. Who is she?" The lithe raven narrowed his eyes, watching him. He wasn't even sure why he answered, but he did. "She was once my wife." With his final words, his body vanished in a swirl of light pink petals, leaving Muramasa to contemplate his sentence.


End file.
